


Silk

by marin27



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Fluff, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Love Confessions, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, No Underage Sex, Oblivious Peter Parker, Oblivious Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark's Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marin27/pseuds/marin27
Summary: Peter has a surprise for Tony on his birthday. He's nervous, of course. In fact, he kind of regrets doing this now.~~~~Where Peter surprises Tony with lingerie for his birthday then emotional and sexy stuff happens.Also, Peter has a bondage kink? Who knew?





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I totally get that this fic is a like two days late 😂 but I really wanted to post this in tribute to Tony Stark's birthday. Bless that man, bringing out the thirsty sides in all of us.
> 
> There's no sex in this, but sexy stuff does happen. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

 

The coolness of the ceramic bathtub is enough to give some form of comfort to Peter, whose skin is hot to the touch—his heart thumping hard against his chest. He feels like his head is on fire, his fast mind whirring with racing worry-stricken thoughts and insecurities. In all honesty, Peter doesn’t know what drove him to this point. Whether it’s Ned’s encouragement, Michelle’s offhanded comments or Wade’s very, very inappropriate and stupid advice. (That Peter is now regretting ever following it)

He doesn’t know what drove him to be locked in one of the many Stark Tower private bathrooms, sitting on the edge of the tub, his foot resting on the toilet bowl lid as his shaking fingers fasten the thin buckle of his shoe. He takes in a breath to try calm his nerves only to make a soft wince when his ribs can’t expand any more in his tight corset. The crimson fabric stretching across his soft skin when he tries to adjust his sitting position.

He tries to ignore the reflection of himself—clad in red and gold fabric—in the corner of his eye, focusing on his other heel to buckle his shoes. He can taste the flavoured strawberry lip balm when he bites onto his lip.

Peter feels so high strung, his muscles have a line of tension in them as he goes over the plan in his head for what seems like the millionth time.

 _God, this is so, so stupid_.

Peter can now feel the regret settling in, having cold feet. It’s Tony’s birthday, after all. This is supposed to be fun and sexy but is now just turning into a whole mess that Peter wishes he can get out of. However, Peter already called Tony and told him to meet him up at his penthouse, telling him he’s got a surprise. The man is still currently in a meeting, which is ending in about ten minutes, so Peter can’t just abandon ship. It’s too late for that.

Not only is he afraid of what Tony will do, but he’s utterly terrified of how Tony will react. This is not just a birthday present, this is also a declaration of Peter’s feelings towards the man. He has never made any advances other than this one right here, which is to tell Tony what he feels then if things go right, give the man a strip tease.

But all of Peter’s insecurities are piling up, drowning out the shaky confidence he had this morning when he was willing to go with the plan.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m so fucked_.

Peter groans, leaning back so his head hits the wall behind him, hoping the dull ache will distract him from his raging thoughts.

“Mr. Stark is heading up now. ETA is three minutes.” Friday’s voice echoes in the large bathroom. Peter straightens up, fear rocking him from head to toe.

_Three minutes!?_

He rushes to feet, stumbling a little as he balances on his heels. The shoes he is wearing isn’t too tall, otherwise he’d be taller than Tony. The heels are only about four inches, probably meeting Tony’s eye level. He flounders over to the sink, packing up the makeup supplies that MJ lent him into the makeup bag and tosses it into his backpack. He adjusts his hips so his legs don’t buckle under him as he walks out of the bathroom.

Peter walks into Tony’s closet and takes one of his many button up silk shirts. The scent of Tony invading his senses the moment he puts it over the lingerie he’s wearing.

He settles onto the bed, now awaiting Tony’s arrival. His leg is crossed over the other, palms resting behind him as he leans back, trying to get some air with the tight corset. Peter can feel a thin sheen of sweat forming behind his neck, exertion from trying to breathe properly.

“Friday? How—Where’s he?”

“He’s in the elevator.”

Another shock of terror goes through his body, and he tries to take a deep breath. He holds his breath the moment he hears the tell-tale sound of Tony’s footsteps outside.

“Kid? Where’s the surprise you were talking about?” Tony asks, his voice muffled from outside. With a dry throat, Peter raises his voice, “I-In here, Mr. Stark!”

A few more footsteps and the door creaks open. “I swear, Peter, if this turns out to be another one of your pranks, I will be—”

Peter feels his heart stops the second Tony enters the room. The man is frozen to the spot, his wide eyes taking in the sight before him. Peter is now realising he might look awkward just sitting on the bed, so he shoots up from his seat, nearly careening forward in his heels. His arms are tight to his sides, awkward and tense as he tries to shoot Tony a smile, but coming out more like a grimace.

Tony’s eyes rake over his form, shock and something unreadable in those brown eyes that Peter loves. The silence is killing Peter, so with a pounding heart, he speaks up with a croaky voice, “Uh—surprise? Happy birthday?”

Peter sounds utterly defeated and embarrassed, which Tony finally takes notice of. His eyes don’t stop staring at Peter, but he does straighten up, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down behind the collar of his white blouse.

Tony is… absolutely speechless.

Tony almost can’t believe his fucking luck as he devours Peter with his eyes. His gaze trails over him, one, two, and three times, wanting to commit every detail to memory. He wants to remember the red corset, lined with golden trimming as an homage to his Iron Man suit—which does indescribable things to Tony—the red lacy bralette with a small blue gem in the middle of the cups, acting like a small arc reactor, the cherry coloured stockings accompanied with matching garter belts that stand out on Peter’s pale skin.

His favourite thing about this whole ensemble is like the cherry on top, which is his burgundy shirt hanging on Peter’s frame, making him look small and bringing out the flush on the younger man’s chest. The fact that it’s his shirt on him, brings out a possessive side of Tony he didn’t know existed until this very moment. _Peter looks fucking breathtaking_.

He takes a step towards Peter, who surprisingly flinches. Tony blinks and he’s hit with the realisation that Peter might be scared or, at the very least, nervous because he doesn’t seem like the type to do this. Which makes Tony melt at the whole idea of Peter putting this much effort for the surprise. And he also realises that he hasn’t given a proper reaction or really said anything. He stays in place, eyes searching Peter’s timid ones.

“Mr. Stark, before you say anything, I think I want to say my piece first. Before you give any reaction. If you… reject me or something, I just want to say this first.” Tony holds back the urge to run up to the kid and pick him up into his arms, kissing him and telling him he will never reject Peter. But he respects Peter’s wishes, so he keeps quiet.

Peter takes a deep breath, only to wince. Tony frowns, definitely noticing his discomfort. “Mr. Stark. I just want to say, happy birthday. I guess I’m your gift. Sorry? Anyway—I want to let you know that whatever happens, or whatever you want to do, is that I’ve been wanting to this for a long time.”

Tony sucks in a breath, his eyes going dark. “I’ve been into you for a really long time and I thought your birthday would be the perfect or worst day to tell you about my feelings. I’m still not quite sure of the verdict on that yet.”

“And yeah, that’s it. I just wanted to say I care about you a lot and I’m very, very sexually attracted to you, if you can’t already tell.” Peter lets out a strained chuckle and risks a glance at the older man. He is taken aback by the intense gaze he meets and he swallows hard. “Mr. Stark, you don’t have to say anyth—”

“Tony.” His voice is firm and almost gruff, sending a tingle down Peter’s spine. “Wha?”

“Call me Tony, cause I’m not quite sure I’d last that long if you keep calling me Mr. Stark.” Peter chokes, his eyes flying wide open. Tony’s expression doesn’t change, but he does take a step forward towards him.

“Okay… Tony.” Peter tests the name in his mouth, eyes averting as he can’t take the intensity of Tony’s gaze. A shaky breath is drawn out and Peter forces himself to look back at Tony. “I-I’m sorry. I’m just… very nervous. And kind of scared. And also kind of self conscious.”

Tony takes more strides, closing the distance between them until only about two feet away. Something in Tony softens, and smile full of awe tugs at this lips. “Oh, baby boy. You look amazing. Absolutely delicious. But…”

Something snaps in Peter, his chest now filling up with worry and the familiar feeling of insecurity clouding his thoughts. He bites his lip, not letting the conflict show on his paling face. Tony reaches out to Peter, but his hand stops in the air between them.

A crease forms in the middle of Tony’s brows, “That doesn’t look comfortable, sweetheart.”

Peter feels his heart sinking, and he must’ve not hid his emotions that well because a look crosses over Tony’s brown eyes and he steps closer, his hand reaching up to hold Peter’s chin between his fingers. “That corset looks like it hurts. Does it hurt?”

Peter’s lip trembles as he shakes his head. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly gone near his breaking point. Maybe it is because of all the nerves from before, trying hard to hide behind false confidence and Tony being sensitive just breaks the dam for all his emotions. Tony frowns. “Peter?”

The way he says his name is so _soft_ , it breaks something in Peter and he just nods this time. “It hurts quite a bit.”

Tony purses his lips together, his eyes having some sort of flicker when he glances down at the corset, as if hating the idea that it hurts Peter, and he slides his fingers up Peter’s cheek. His tone is quiet and gentle, comfort washing over the distressed teen just by his voice. “Okay. Let me take it off for you, okay? Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

Peter starts nodding again, vigorously this time. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

Peter is sure the air con is blasting and the room is probably much colder than it feels, but Peter feels like he’s on fire at every point where he and Tony touch. The warmth relighting something in him, sliding into his skin and spreading across his exposed body. _How can he be this affected from something so simple? Driving him crazy with a couple of light touches._

Peter has to bite back the moan when Tony drags one finger from his shoulder down to his back, catching onto one of the red ribbons. Tony pulls, and the knot comes undone. His other hand comes up to pull on the other end, the silk soft cloth unravelling between his hands.

Peter realises Tony is untying the corset for him, because he can finally breathe a little easier, his ribcage having more space to expand. Peter feels like goo in his hands, muscles twitching then relaxing as Tony’s warm touch moves from his back to his arms.

Tony pulls the corset apart, the ribbons loosening their tight hold on Peter. Peter watches as Tony leans in to gently take the corset away from Peter, as if he’s something precious that’s about to break. Once it’s off his body, Tony tosses it behind him and he takes a stride closer, hand immediately coming down to gently rub away the angry red lines caused by the tightness of the corset. Peter gasps, his hand coming down to wrap around Tony’s wrist. The older man’s gaze intensifies, watching Peter with a tender look that seems to peel away the layers of façade that Peter built up; past the false confidence and down to the anxious fear he actually feels.

Peter’s eyes sting and within a second, a tear rolls down. Tony doesn’t waste time for his other hand to reach up and cup Peter’s cheek, thumb rubbing the hot tear away. Peter feels like he failed in a way, this was supposed to be for Tony, not a session for Peter’s emotions to get in the way again; his insecurities laid out in the open. Tony’s voice seem to rumble, concern intertwining with the lust he is able to mask well, “You alright?”

Peter shakes his head and the crease deepens in Tony’s brows.

“This was supposed to be for you. A gift for you. I’m not supposed to be raining on your parade.” Tony almost looks hurt by the statement, which doesn’t make sense to Peter until he leans in and says, “Kid, I don’t care if it’s my birthday. I have so received so many gifts in my lifetime and spent lots of money on keeping myself entertained before. I’ve seen it all. But this is on another level. I’m so happy that you’re into me, no less even thinking of putting on lingerie for me on my birthday.

“Even then, and trust me when I say this, nothing will make me happier on my birthday than knowing you’re comfortable and safe. I’d rather you feel cozy in a sweatshirt than feel like you have to stuff yourself into a costume to get me in the mood. Because trust me, Pete, you could wear anything and I’d be down for anything, anytime.”

Peter is dumbfounded by the end of it, only whispering out a soft, “Really?”

Tony smiles, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Really.” He brushes a lock of Peter’s hair away from his forehead.

Peter is cold and hot at the same time, hot because the caresses feel like fire, cold because of the chills that run through him when he feels Tony’s breath fan on his neck. He melts the second the scratchy feeling of Tony’s beard brushes against his sensitive skin, and his knees nearly buckle when soft lips press onto Peter’s jawline. Peter can barely see through the haze of lust, his heart pounding as his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. Tony’s arm encases his waist and Peter melts into his embrace.

Peter starts to panic when Tony’s fingers graze the elastic of his underwear. He pulls back, “Mr—Tony, I-I don’t—”

Tony shushes him, his hand sliding back up to his waist, rubbing small circles into his skin. Peter only now notices the tears that spilled over to his cheeks, his heart ramming out of his chest. Tony leans in, pressing his forehead to Peter’s. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. If you’re not ready, it’s fine. Breathe with me, sweetheart.”

A sob wracks his body and through his tears, Peter says, “God, this is a mess.”

Tony chuckles then presses his lips to Peter’s cheek in comfort. “But I don’t mind it one bit. This is probably the best mess I’ve seen in my life.”

Peter ducks his head under Tony’s chin, finding relief from his anxiety when Tony wraps his arms around him protectively. He breathes in Tony’s scent, his bones turning to liquid.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Tony’s shoulder. He can feel the subtle shake of his head. “Don’t be. The fact I’m able to hold you already makes this the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, soaking up each others warmth and finding solace in their company. Once Peter’s face doesn’t feel like it’s hot to the touch, he pulls away and gives a quick peck to Tony’s jaw. When he looks at Tony, the endearment and affection he finds in his eyes makes him beam up at him. Tony sighs wistfully then bends down to pick Peter up by his waist, a wide grin forming when Peter squeaks.

He walks them over to the bed and gently places Peter down, standing before the edge of the bed. Peter sits up and before Tony can undo his tie, Peter swats his hands away then tugs on the maroon striped silk himself, pulling Tony down by the neck. With a curious, almost innocent, look in his eye, he says softly, “Tie me up with this?”

Tony’s eyes flash with something indescribable and he nods, leaning down to press his lips hard against Peter’s. He can feel the silk tie sliding off his neck, and Peter putting it into his own hands to tie it for him. He pushes off Tony’s blazer from his shoulders and undoes a few of his buttons.

The teenager pulls away and shifts back until he’s lying in the middle of the bed. With his arms above his head, he waits for Tony to tie his wrists together. Tony feels the air thin around him, kicking off his shoes and gingerly crawling over Peter—straddling Peter’s thighs—to wrap the tie around his pale hands knotted with the bar of the headboard above his head.

Peter is grinning by the time Tony is finished, and he has to take a second to look at the spectacle before him. His lashes flutter, his cheeks turning pink as he preens under the attention. Tony takes his time to roam his hands over Peter’s skin; down his chest, up his thighs, fingertips brushing over the lace on his bra, even rubbing gently at the redness from the corset. Peter bites his lip, chest heaving up and down.

It drives the man crazy, how Peter is at Tony’s mercy, easily getting pulled apart at the seams. He leans down and presses his wet lips to the crook of Peter’s neck. Even with such a small touch, Peter has to bite back his moan, throwing his head back to expose his neck even more. He hovers over Peter’s lithe body, hand trailing down his side, reveling in how Peter seems to twitch under his touch. Once his hand is low enough, Tony snaps one of the garter belts against his thigh, and Peter flinches, a moan pulling out of him as Tony teases his collarbone with his tongue.

Peter feels like he could melt out of his body every time Tony’s lips touch his neck, a long sigh coming out. When warm wetness presses down on his pulse point, Peter can’t stop his hips from jumping. Tony grins against his skin and shifts in his seating position, so their crotches would meet.

“If you move, I’ll stop.” Tony’s tone is almost dangerous, dark and serious as he mumbles into Peter’s neck. Peter gulps and shakily nods. However, he isn’t prepared for the shock of pleasure that rocks his body when Tony rolls his own hips against Peter’s.

He’s able to keep still, but his back arches, and he wonders how his lip isn’t bleeding from how hard he’s biting it. Tony is moaning now too, his hot breaths heating up Peter’s skin as he moves his hips fluidly.

Tony pulls back a bit, “Is this okay?”

Peter nods vigorously, his eyes screwed tight as he muffles his moans. He’s panting by the time Tony speeds up his ministrations, now aching to move against Tony.

Tony is not sure how long they keep at it, with his grinding and Peter trying to hold still. But the time Tony’s hips stutter and stop, both are shaking messes. Peter can’t hold back his strength, his only thought is _touch Tony touch Tony touch Tony._

He pulls his hands free, the silk tie ripping apart. His hands fly to Tony’s waist and bicep, digging his fingers into the muscle there as they both cry out in their orgasm. Peter can feel warm wetness between him and Tony, and somehow that turns Peter on even more. Tony is unable to hold himself above Peter but luckily, the younger man under him is able to hold him up, pulling him gently to rest Tony’s head on his chest. Peter runs his shaking fingers through Tony’s greying hair and doesn’t hide the smile when he feels Tony touch his bralette with curiosity.

“Like it?”

A chuckle rumbles through Tony. “Yes, very much. Are you gonna wear this around me all the time now? Cause I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Peter laughs weakly, still spent after his orgasm. “But you don’t wear that corset. I can buy you a better one,” Tony mumbles, voice getting softer as he feels exhaustion creep in. Peter smiles, and nods.

“As fun as this was, I think we skipped a few steps to get here,” Tony says, tangling his legs with Peter’s. Peter hums curiously. “We should have dinner tonight. Call it our first date.”

Peter freezes, “Really?”

Tony tilts his head up to look at Peter’s awed face. “Yeah. You think I can walk away from you? C’mon it’s not like I hide my feelings that well.”

Peter looks sheepish, “Well, I didn’t know you liked me back.”

Tony huffs and settles his head back onto Peter’s chest. “Or maybe you’re just oblivious.”

“If I may interject, sirs.” Friday’s voice rings out. “The both of you weren’t particularly good at hiding your feelings but you were not good at noticing them either. So, I think it’s long overdue for the two of you to say something.”

Tony glares at the ceiling while Peter just flushes. With a timid voice, Peter says, “How long, Friday?”

“Approximately eighteen months ago, in the lab after you left to go to Mr. Leeds’ birthday party.” Tony splutters, his own face now turning red as he remembers that day clearly.

“Boss saw you come in with jeans that were tighter than usual. That’s when he finally realised he is very attracted to you. It is quite an entertaining process to see.” Friday’s tone is mirthful and Peter can’t help the laugh bubbling up. “Do you have footage?”

“Yes, indeed I do, Mr. Parker.”

Tony is crying out in indignation but Peter just shushes him, eyes glued to the hologram screen that formed in front of the bed. It shows a replay of that particular day. Tony was tinkering over something on the lab table, without realising one of the pieces is about to fall off the table. When it drops, Tony calls for Peter to pick it up for him.

Tony just had to look up at the wrong moment, when Peter is bent over, pert ass in the air, thighs tensed as he balances himself on his feet to pick up the piece. Tony is frozen in his chair, eyes wide, the screwdriver falling out of his hand. The Peter in the footage is oblivious, not noticing anything out of the ordinary as he puts back the piece of equipment onto the table. He chirped out a ‘ciao’ and left the lab to get to Ned’s party.

Peter in the present can’t stop laughing, especially at how red Tony is becoming. He can’t help but press a kiss to Tony’s hairline, muttering, “God that was so adorable.”

“Boss, are you interested to see one of Mr. Parker’s… moments?” Friday’s tone is ominous, and Peter stops his laughter. His eyes are wide as he looks to the ceiling. “Friday, please don’t.”

Tony grins wide. “Play it for me, baby girl.”

The footage changes and Tony recognises it as the landing pad that leads to the training rooms of the building. He watches as his past self lands in his suit, walking into the training room where Peter is taking a break from his workout. The camera changes to one in the training room. Peter’s eyes were glued to the suit, with something dark in his eyes—which present Tony now realises is arousal. He glances up at present Peter to see him with pursed lips, looking redder than his suit.

The Tony in the footage retracts his suit and he must’ve been from a mission because his under suit is dark with sweat, drops of sweat trailing down his neck, hair damp. Peter in the footage chokes on his water, his eyes going wide, his cheeks turning as red as the present Peter. Friday’s microphones are good enough to even pick up the soft ‘Holy fuck’ that Peter mumbled.

Present Tony is chuckling, chest rumbling as he tries to hide his laughter for Peter’s sake. “No, _that_ was adorable.”

Peter’s brows furrow and opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by FRIDAY. “I have many other tracks of footage that I can show—”

“No, that’s okay, Friday,” Peter blurts out. Tony grins even wider, “Seems like I’ve got a lot to catch up on in my free time.”

“Mr. Parker, I can send Karen the other tracks if you’d like.” The amusement is wiped away from Tony’s face. Peter is now the one grinning. “That’d be amazing, Friday. Thank you.”

Tony groans and turns in Peters embrace, nuzzling his neck. “Ignoring the fact Friday is clearly turning into Ultron 2.0—”

“I do appreciate your compliments, boss.” Friday’s tone is dry and Peter bursts out into giggles.

Tony ‘hmphs and continues talking, “What do you say? Dinner. You and me. Tonight. Most likely at some place that will be too expensive and we’ll ultimately leave to get pizza instead.”

Peter is grinning so wide, he’s afraid his face will split in half. He kisses Tony, with conviction and passion, and pulls away to nod. “Yes. That would be amazing.”

He runs a hand through Tony’s hair and the man almost melts.

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

Tony smiles, holding onto Peter tighter. “You’re amazing, kid.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!! Cause this was put together very last minute Xd
> 
> But heyyy, I hope yall enjoyed it anyway.


End file.
